We've Past the Point of no Return
by MyAngelofMusic
Summary: (the phantom of the opera) ever wonder if Christine and the Phantom ever crossed again? This is the story of what would happen if once again, Christine passed the point of no return.
1. Angel of Music Once More

Disclaimer: I do not own the masterpiece that is The Phantom of the Opera. Not the book, the play, or the movies. I do, however, own Angel of Music Once More.

The show was over, and Christine Daae was so tired she was happy she didn't black out on stage. She walked through the crowds and into her dressing room, which was filled with flowers. Christine picked up a single flower from her dresser. A note was attatched.

Christine, you sang wonderfully tonight. I'll be there soon to pick you up for dinner. I love you.

_Raoul_

She smiled, and started to walk for the bathroom door. She needed to change. Then, out of the blue, like so many times before, _he_ made his presence known. From the deep bowels of the Opera House, she heard an all too familiar voice. The voice was soft and hard to make out. It was choked between sobs.

"Masquerade…  
Paper faces on parade . . .  
Masquerade.  
Hide your face,  
so the world will  
never find you…  
Masquerade…  
Every face a different shade . . .  
Masquerade.  
Look around -  
there's another  
mask behind you…"

Christine sighed, feeling overcome with grief at that sorrow-filled voice. She sat on her bed and began to sing the fateful song that had once locked her and her angel of music together, not too long ago…

"Angel, I hear you!

Speak,

I listen.

Stay by my side,

Guide me!

Angel, My soul was weak

Forgive me,

Enter once more,

Master!"

She waited for his response. What seemed like hours, but was really only moments, passed by until she heard her answer.

"Wandering child,

You denied me,

Ran from the angel,

And his song.

Deceiving child,

You betrayed me,

And what's this now?

You ask for me, love?"

"Angel of music,

Hide no longer,

Enter in your glory!

Angel, once more I say to you

My soul was weak,

Forgive me…

Enter once more,

Master!"

"Flattering child,

You shall see me (once more)

See why I lie here

In tears,

You know the way to find me,

Enter once more!

Down below!"

Christine blinked back tears and reached for her mirror with a trembling hand. She walked through the secret passageway, stepping on something that crunched. She looked down and found a dozen red roses lying on the ground. "My God…he brought these for me…but never had the strength to bring them in. My God this man…he still loves me."

She slowly started to make her way down the steps and deeper into the Phantom's hell. She found that there was no longer a boat, and she had to wade her way through the dark rivers of the Opera alone.

When once again she found the Phantom's lair, it had changed since her last visit. Paintings of Christine were everywhere, some torn and destroyed, some left in perfect condition. His model of her seemed to have been broken and poorly fixed.

She heard faint sobs coming from the back room. Slowly and fearfully, she mounted the steps. She didn't know if she was ready once again to see that horrid face. The doorway to the back room was closer now, and she reached for it blindly.

Thank God, the Angel's mask was in place. But even so, he looked terrible. Tears streaked his cheeks; his face was white, and his hands shaking. He looked terribly ill. "Christine…" came the voice of the Angel.

"What horrors have happened to you, love?" she sat down beside him, her fears floating away. This man needed her help.

He turned his face away from her, feeling embarrassed and ashamed. "Why have you come looking for me?"

Christine gently touched his face, feeling the heat of his fever. "You're hot."

"You haunted me."

"You're shaking, love."

"Every day since that night."

"How did you get so sick?"

"Every night…"

"Come with me." she gently helped him to his feet and led him to his bed. She tucked him in with almost motherly love, and again felt his fever. "You need rest now, don't worry about a thing." She smiled, though she herself had many worries resting unpleasantly in her stomach.

His eyelids began to slip shut. In half-sleep he whispered, "Christine, I love you…"


	2. Wishes

Disclaimer: I do not own the song The Phantom of the Opera, though I did add in a few verses to make it match up to this story. I do, however, own Things I Hadn't Counted On.

Christine woke from where she had slept uncomfortably. The floor. She looked at the sleeping Phantom, whose face was streaked with dried tears. She turned away and started to sing to herself, the most familiar song of all.

"In sleep he sang to me,

In dreams he came,  
That voice which calls to me,

And speaks my name.  
And do I dream again? For now I find…  
The Phantom of the Opera is there-Inside my mind."

"Sing once again with me,

Our strange duet!" the unforgettable voice came out of nowhere.

Christine turned to see the Phantom sitting straight up, singing in his loudest, most full voice. _He seems a lot better. _She watched in awe as he sang on.

"Though you fled from me,

To leave me behind,

The phantom of the opera is there,

Inside your mind!

Please…sing, my angel of music…once more!"

Christine stood and did as he said. "He's here…the phantom of the opera!"

"Sing, my angel!"

"He's here once more,

The phantom of the Opera!"

"Sing…"

"Once more, the phantom of the Opera!"

"Sing for me!"

"My love,

I fear,

The phantom of the Opera!"

Instead of commanding another verse or their strange duet, the Phantom stopped speaking. Fresh tears squeezed out of his eyes. "You do not know…how long I have wanted you to sing with me again."

"As…did I." Christine took a step closer and sighed. She began to sing again, this time more emotionally.

"You were once  
my one companion . . .  
you were all  
that mattered…

And when you were gone,

I found myself…

Wishing you were  
somehow here again . . .  
wishing you were  
somehow near . . .  
Sometimes it seemed  
if I just dreamed,  
somehow you would  
be here…

Wishing I could  
hear your voice again . . .  
knowing that I  
never would . . .  
All those nights,

Dreaming of you…" She broke off in sobs.

The phantom watched her carefully as she took a few more steps closer. The tears had stopped flowing. He opened his mouth and joined her.

"I, too found myself

Wishing I could  
hear your voice again . . .  
knowing that I  
always would . . .

Too many years  
fighting back tears . . .  
Why can't the past  
just die . . .?

No more memories,  
no more silent tears . . .  
No more gazing across  
the wasted years . . .  
Help me say  
goodbye."

Christine joined in again with choked sobs.

"Wishing you were  
somehow here again . . .  
knowing we must  
say goodbye . . .  
Try to forgive . . .  
teach me to live . . .  
give me the strength  
to try . . ."

Christine hoisted him out of bed and held him close, sobbing into his shoulder. "Forgive me…please, please forgive me! A part of me _did _love you…"

The Phantom collapsed onto the floor, weakly. "Oh, Christine…"

She got down on her knees to look at his eyes. "Pitiful creature…I never dreamed that this would happen to you."

He looked at her, pain in his eyes. He began to sing once more.

"I never counted on that boy.

He took you away from me,

When I finally had you.

I never counted on my plans failing.

I had it all so carefully planned out.

Carefully,

Carefully…"

He looked up at her. "Oh…Christine."

Author's Note: Sorry to cut this short, guys…oh and I know, it's really hard to imagine all of this because it's in writing…I'm sorry, I'm just such a poetry nerd! Well, if you don't like it…DEAL WITH IT!


	3. The Vile Secret?

I of course do not own the "Pitiful Creature of Darkness" verse from "Down once More", but I do own "Don't Play These Games", and

Author's Note: this story is a mix of poetry and song, so it is a little difficult to comprehend. I've tried to let you know who is singing and when, so that should help break it down. Incase you don't know where we left off, Christine has once again entered the Phantom's lair, only to find him deeply depressed and very, very ill. She is feeling overcome with guilt for breaking his heart, and doesn't really know what she feels at this point. Well, that is where I leave you. Happy reading (and singing)!

She had once again stayed in the Phantom's lair overnight. This cold, dismal place filled with secrets and betrayal. And here in front of her was this pitiful dark creature…its face stained with tears, white with illness, and creased with worried, sleepless wrinkles. The Phantom of the Opera was very ill indeed.

"Come, you need to lie down." Christine said, bringing herself out of her trance.

"Hmm?" the Phantom said sleepily.

She helped this pitiful creature into his bed, and sat him up a little with pillows. "Don't fall back all the way…I don't want you blacking out."

"Thank you, Christine." He was too weak to let his pride get to him.

She felt his face. His fever had gone down some, but he was still quite warm. "You're a little better, but still feverish. How do you feel?"

"I've felt this way ever since that night, my dear."

Christine fought her tears back. Was this man _trying _to smother her in guilt? Well, she probably deserved it. "You'll feel better soon." Christine bent down and kissed him innocently on the cheek. In the Phantom's eyes, there was a spark of happiness.

"Pitiful creature of darkness,

What kind of life have you known?

God gave me courage to show you…

You are not alone!"

Christine smiled and backed away. "I must leave you now. But I will be back by nighttime. Nobody will see me; nobody will know where I'm going. Don't worry."

The Phantom looked at her with unsure eyes. He sang the well-known phrase with all the beauty in his voice. "Promise me that all you say is true."

"I promise you," Christine said.

"Thank you, Christine. That's all I ask of you." His eyelids slid shut, and he was fast asleep.

It had taken the best of lies to convince Raoul that she was just staying a bit longer to practice. Raoul respected her work and knew that she wanted it to be perfect, so he had let her stay without a fuss. After all, marriage was about understanding, wasn't it?

When Christine once again entered the tunnels and lakes in the bowels of the Opera House, she found that the boat was back in place. She rowed herself deeper into the Phantom's lair, trying her best not to let the boat topple over. When she returned, the Phantom was at his organ, playing his music, Don Juan.

"Are you feeling better?" she asked, a little frightened for some reason. If the Phantom was well again, there was no telling what he was capable of doing.

The Phantom waited awhile before answering. "…Much."

"That's…good." Christine neared him.

The man with the mask suddenly spun around. He began to sing a song that did not rhyme at all. Christine could tell that he hadn't given this one any thought. It was just words spewing out of his mouth. Angry, worried words.

"Christine, don't play these games with me.

Christine, don't put on this act.

Don't toy with me, my dear,

Tell me…

Is all that you said before

At all the truth?"

Christine didn't know quite how to react. She chose the words to her song carefully.

"I poured out my heart to you,

Gave you my mind and my soul.

I swear, everything I've told you is true.

I meant every word,

It came from the heart.

I swear to you,

I swear to you."

The Phantom nodded and stood, a little wobbly. "I hear you sing, my dear."

Christine looked at him curiously. "You still listen?"

"Your voice fills the chambers below the Opera. I cannot help but listen. You are doing very well, my dear, but you still need practice."

"Thank you?" Christine didn't know if this was a compliment or an insult.

The phantom turned and fiddled with loose papers. He was nervous, she could tell. Christine thought back to when she had first seen his face. To her first memories of this mysterious man she knew almost nothing about…

"I don't believe I ever learned your name," she suddenly blurted out.

The Phantom turned to look at her. "What?"

"You never told me your name…Will you tell me your name?"

He stood silently, thinking it over as if his name was some vile secret that nobody should know of. His lips parted slowly and he whispered his name. "Erik."

"Erik?"

"Yes…" he thought back. It had been so many years since someone had called him Erik. Now he was the Opera Ghost, and to Christine, the Angel of Music.


End file.
